


The Red Men - Interlude

by x_art



Series: The Red Men [2]
Category: The Mentalist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 08:31:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_art/pseuds/x_art
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One minute after the ending of 'The Red Men.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Red Men - Interlude

_Fifteen minutes later they were on the path, Jane lagging behind because he kept stopping to look at the plants, when Cho remembered something he’d been meaning to do all morning. He got out his cell._

_“What are you doing?”_

_Cho looked back. Jane was bent over a plant with big leaves and bigger white blooms. His pants were already wet at the knees. “Luckner didn’t want us to use our cells while we were on the detail but now that it doesn’t matter, I’m picking up my messages.” He retrieved his mail just as Jane straightened up and hurried towards him, finger up._

_“Oh. About that…”_

 

 

He stopped. And turned. “About what?”

Jane hesitated, then smiled brilliantly. “On second thought, I’ll just go on ahead. See you in the car.” He brushed by Cho and hurried off.

Cho frowned, then held the phone to his ear to hear. _“Your inbox is full.’_ Said the mechanical voice. _‘Please delete all messages. You have seventeen messages.”_

Seventeen.

He’d only been gone a week. He barely got seventeen messages in an entire year much less seven days. He hung up, then retrieved the messages again but sure enough, it was the right number

He began to play them.

The first consisted of approximately thirty seconds of music from a country-western radio station. It had to be from Jane. Or maybe Rigsby?

He deleted the message and went onto the next. Which was a very simple, _‘It’s Jane, where are you?’_

Same for the next four, with slight variations: _‘Hi, it’s me, where are you?’_

The seventh mixed it up a bit: _‘You do know you can’t hide from me, right? I’ll find you no matter how long it takes.’_

And the eighth, as if Jane had never hung up, continued with, _‘People have tried it and I always find them.’_

The ninth through fourteenth messages were when Jane got really crabby—they consisted of him reading short excerpts from the owner’s manual of Lisbon’s car.

The fifteenth was the funniest: _‘Is this Pizza Heaven? I’d like a large pizza, heavy on the pineapple. In fact, skip the cheese and sauce altogether and make it all pineapple. Thanks. Bye.’_

The sixteenth was from Luce. She only got a few words in, something about trying to get in touch with him about their parent’s annual 4th of July party—before he accidentally deleted it. He sighed heavily—he’d call her back when he got home.

The seventeenth and very last message was from Jane again, of course. He sounded tired this time, his voice hushed in that way it got when he’d been up too long, been talking too much, _‘It’s one in the morning and it looks like we’re almost done here. Me and Lisbon and Rigsby, I mean.’_ There was a long pause, then he added, almost whispering, _‘I hope you’re okay. I’m mad at you, but I hope you’re okay. I_ _miss you. Say hi to Van—”_

The message cut off and he stood there, the hot sun on his back, the small phone in his hand as he listened to the electronic voice ask blithely what he wanted to do with the messages. He’d deleted all the others and he should just do the same with this one—there was no reason to keep it.

But he stood there for the longest time, his finger hovering over the delete button. Then, without really thinking about it, he saved the message and pocketed the phone.

Hi shouldered his bag and made his way up the path, hurrying to catch Jane.

 

_fin._

 


End file.
